


Childhood Dreams and New Beginnings

by Vexicle



Series: Smooth Flying! Safe Travels! [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-06-15 01:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15402390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexicle/pseuds/Vexicle





	1. Recruiting Aquilo: Failed

He remembers her last as someone he needs to bend over to reach eye-level, as someone with dark curly hair tied up in messy pigtails, and as someone with the most _obnoxious_ brightly-coloured sneakers and cyan hoodies and star-patterned shirts.

What he _hadn’t_ expected upon his brother bumping into a girl in the first week at Chalkhill International, was to realise they were the one and the same.

“I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry…” She had paused then, trailing off, tone slightly questioning at the end. Frowning, she tapped her chin in thought, a gesture Aquilo had grown familiar with over the years (and missed, though he’s never said as such to anyone but his diary).

“Iggy!” She beams, prompting the redhead to make a startled squeak. With practiced ease, he dives and saves Iggy’s books from clattering to the ground and making a colossal mess.

“And those moves! Quilly, I’ve missed you!” He barely has time to hand the cargo off to his brother before he finds himself wrapped in a familiar embrace. _She's taller now,_ he notes faintly. Just the right height for several strands of her hair to tickle his nose. She still smells like fresh flowers.

“...Cheryl.” 

“Come on now, Quilly, we haven't seen each other for years and _that’s_ the attitude you give me?” Cherry doesn't seem to truly mind, however. Her dark hair is down past her chest, the frizz somewhat more manageable now. She’s dressed in a beige blouse and a black knee-length skirt - all very well and good, except that Cherry has a black jacket draped haphazardly over her left shoulder.

_Typical._

“Quilly, say hi!” Iggy’s amber eyes shine with delight. “Oh, Cherry, how are you? I-I’m really sorry I didn't reply to your text last night -”

“Are we really still using those nicknames?” The blond tries not to wince, tries not to look at Cherry’s face. “We’re teenagers now, you know.”

Of course, she then gets all up in _his_ face. “Ooh, of _course_ , Aquilooo.” She pokes his arm, smirking mischievously. “Ooh, all grown up and _mature_ now, right?”

Iggy looks at his brother helplessly. “I think… he’s kinda right…”

Aquilo shakes his head softly. His gaze flicks from Cherry to the floor and… _and wow. She looks so grown up._ Out loud, he says, “If you want to, it's fine. I was just… tossing it out there. If… you wanted.”

He can feel the nausea churning at the pit of his stomach. Without another word, he walks away, hand over his mouth as he walks briskly to his destination, making sure to stand up straight and push his shoulders back. Behind him, he can still hear Cherry’s loud voice.

“Did Quilly just… not insult me throughout the entire conversation?”

With a twinge of guilt, Aquilo hurries around the corner, huddled along the corridor.

Throughout orientation activities, it’s all Aquilo can do not to dwell on the past with tiny needles pricking at him all over. He shoves out of his mind the various memories of himself as a smaller, much more prideful child, much more openly hostile and rude to anyone he disliked. _But I’m not like that anymore,_ Aquilo tells himself after the millionth time the memory of him making Iggy cry resurfaces. _I won’t be like that anymore._

With determination, Aquilo forces himself to straighten up. Looking out the window, he tries to calm himself down. _Look, Aquilo, Iggy forgave you. Just be sincere in your apology. Cherry seemed happy to see you. She won’t be too angry. I hope..._

It is with trepidation that Aquilo seeks his old friend out again at lunchtime. He dares to creep along the walls, ducking his head into Cherry’s classroom. Blue eyes rake the contents of the sky blue classroom. Cardboard cutouts of flowers and grass line the walls, evidently old leftover decorations.

Aquilo leaps back as his vision is swarmed suddenly with black bouncy curls. Dark eyes glitter up at him. “Hi!” she chirps like a bird. “Hi! Hi! Hi!” Her voice has certainly grown deeper. She doesn't sound like the young child she used to be.

Aquilo reminds himself to be patient as he gulps down air and squares his shoulders. “Hi, uh, hey,” he mutters. “Cherry. Um, so… we haven't seen each other in while, and I just wanted to let you know. I, well, did some thinking…”

“Ooh! You were thinking of me?”

The blond bites back a retort. _Fucking hell, she_ knows _what she’s doing now._ Her efforts to annoy him seem more calculated somehow. Fascinatingly, he now yearns for the time where Cherry was an oblivous little twat.

Now she's _worse_.

“Yes,” Aquilo replies, willing himself not to fall prey to her bait - where the hell did she learn to be such a _tease_? Even so, he can feel the sweat on his palms as he clenches and unclenches his fists. “I’d like to apologise for my behaviour to you back then. I was…” Aquilo cringes. “ _Really_ dumb when I was small.”

Cherry stays still, unblinking. Several of her classmates brush past them, looking at the duo curiously. Finally, she says, “What behaviour?”

“Wh-what? You mean you didn't _notice_?” Aquilo has to bite his lip. _Calm, calm._ “My intense hostility somehow slipped past your radar?”

Cherry’s eyes twinkle. “You're talking like that again,” she says affectionately, voice far away.

Aquilo stammers, fiddling with his hands, “I...I… th-that doesn't answer my question!” 

“I mean, well, you’re Quilly!” Cherry laughs and shrugs her shoulders, sending her curls bouncing over her shoulder. “Sharp eyes, sharp mind, sharp tongue -”

“Stop making it so hard for me to apologise, damn it!” Aquilo snaps before he realises what he's doing. When he does, his eyes widen and he awkwardly shields his mouth with his hands.

“I'm really -”

“Ahhh, there ya go, Quilly.” Cherry grins, grabbing his arm with one hand and tousling his short blond hair with the other. She has to reach up on her toes to even make it. Aquilo just eyes her, lips pursed.

“Have it your way,” he sighs. He hates to admit it, but some small part of him relishes the touch. He hasn't seen Cherry in so long. _Could it be that I actually miss her?_ Maybe. Aquilo likes to think he's grown up a lot over the years. Then again, wasn't that what he thought at ten as well? Shame threatens to overfill and spill over oncce again. _I was such a fool. A proud, dumb jerk._

“Besides, I can't ever _really_ be angry at you for long,” Cherry announces importantly, placing her hands behind her back in a cute little pose. “Wanna know a secret? I need you and Iggy for… _a top secret project._ ”

“A what?” Aquilo squirms uncomfortably. _Please help me, please help me, please help me._ Why does he have to be here talking to a childhood friend he hasn't bothered talking to in years? To be honest, that's his fault. A reunion always was going to be awkward. But does it really need to turn out like _this_?

Cherry opens her mouth, ready to yak on and on about her latest plan for world domination or whatever, until she’s interrupted by someone calling his name.

Aquilo turns. It's his _other_ childhood friend. Suddenly feeling at a loss of what to do, he glances between both girls, all the while telling himself to knock it off.

“Oh! Please excuse me.” The newcomer gives Cherry a friendly smile before turning to Aquilo. “Aquilo, you told me you wanted to try out some club activities. The track team is carrying out their trials now. I was on my way, and I spotted you here, so I figured I’d ask first.” Curious, she glances at Cherry, whose mouth is open so wide it could attract flies. Aquilo has half a mind to close it for her.

“If I’m interrupting, I’ll be on my way,” she adds apologetically, nodding at Cherry. That seems to snap the curly-haired girl out of it.

“No way! Who are you?!” Cherry grins like a maniac and pushes her face close.

“My name is Zephyr,” the other girl says politely, but Aquilo notices she takes a step back. Looking back and forth between her friends, Zephyr concludes, “And I suppose you must be Cherry.”

“Oh, cool, Iggy talks about you a ton!”

“About… me?” Zephyr’s cheeks colour crimson as she averts her gaze shyly. “Ah, thank you.”

Aquilo clears his throat as he steps in to save the poor girl. “Hey, Cherry, we’ll be going,” he says, slinging one arm around Zephyr, “So, uh, like, bye.” He all but drags Zephyr with him as he waves her off.

“Byeeee!” Cherry calls after them, waving her hand so hard it almost looks like shes flapping it like a bird’s wing. Aquilo has to resist letting out an annoyed 'tch' as he and Zephyr make a hasty retreat.

“Was I interrupting?” Zephyr asks curiously as they seperate and walk through the corridor normally. It's lunchtime, and they have to fight against the tidal wave of students headed their way.

Aquilo shakes his head. “Nah. She was about to tell me something weird, so I'm glad you helped me out.”

“You seemed eager to get away.”

“Well, if I didn't I bet you’d have been there all day to indulge her and you’d have missed the tryouts,” he chides her playfully.

“Iggy talks about me,” Zephyr muses, deep in thought. “I wonder what she thinks of me?”

 _Probably only good things. Cherry’s like that,_ Aquilo thinks as they head outside and onto the school field, big and lush and green, about twice the size of the football field in his former school. Zephyr rushes off to greet the coach, while he trails slowly behind and turns Cherry’s words over in his mind.

_A project, huh?_


	2. Recruiting Zephyr: A Bust

_No way! That long black hair, that pretty face, and the way she holds herself. She’s totally a model student! What a rare find._

Cherry now has a face to put to the name Zephyr Kye Hyunjae, and honestly, at first she’d been caught off guard. For some reason, when Iggy had described Zephyr to Cherry, she’d been expecting someone far more bookish and awkward. Holed up in an oversized turtleneck sweater, maybe, glasses obscuring her acne-streaked face and a book clutched to her chest. Instead, what Cherry has come face to face with was someone who radiated quiet confidence. Obviously an athlete, Cherry had concluded after one glance at Zephyr’s legs that hadn't been covered by shorts. Her bangs are brushed out of her face and fastened into place with a pin. And had Zephyr done something to her lashes? They looked so pretty!

 _Zephyr, Zephyr, I hear Iggy has a lot of good things to say about you,_ Cherry thinks to herself. Her tongue sticks out as she fishes her notebook out to make more plans in it. Using a pencil, she sketches a Korean teen with long dark hair that shines. Cherry adds a smile to the blank face. It looks really bad. _Totally different from Quilly._ Cherry leans back in her chair, satisfied regardless. With a whoop, she bounces her notebook into the air. _And I’ve finally met her! A new friend._

So, she’s not just a pretty face. That modest, yet firm way she talks to her peers... According to Iggy’s testimonial, she’s calm and diligent, caring and mature. Even Aquilo has had nothing bad to say about her for years, and that’s got to count for something. (The most he’s said is that Zephyr accidentally whacked him in the head with a basketball once.)

 _That settles it,_ Cherry thinks, dark eyes shining. _Someone who shines so brightly doesn't come by often. I’ve got to get her to join my team!_

Cherry looks back up at the clock on the wall. It reads 10:35. Twenty-five minutes left to the end of recess, and twenty-five minutes more to settle on a great plan with great execution to get Zephyr to sign her name on board. _Confidence, right? That’s all I need. I can do this._

Cherry begins by crumpling up the existing papers on top of her math worksheets that contain her pink and green dinosaur doodles. With a grin settled in place and her arms extended forward to crack her knuckles, Cherry declares herself ready to roll.

.

When Zephyr had started school, she’d really just thought she’d have been here to get an education and graduate at the end of the day. None of this social life business. She’s found it awkward trying to make friends, she’s realised. This isn't as easy as putting three quiet children together and having one of them eventually crack out of boredom, or desperation. This is her new life as a teenager, and by her own calculations she’s already failing at the bit that flashes neon with ‘this is the stage in life where you develop the skills necessary for transition into adulthood’ written on a comically small signboard.

Okay, maybe she’s over-exaggerating a little, but Zephyr still feels… awkward talking to her classmates as is. They’ve split into teams briefly for Chalkhill International School’s orientation, but Zephyr finds that she’s constantly being ignored, or talked over, for a classmate next to her. The most she’s mustered up are weak chuckles at a funny joke. On the plus side this means she doesn't come off as entirely unfriendly, but still. 

_I wish the twins could accompany me. They’d understand that I can't talk to strangers!_ Zephyr thinks, amused but resigned. 

It’s the first day at school and already they’ve been introduced to their school’s library. Zephyr clutches a book in one hand and finds herself a table illuminated by the afternoon light, washed out by the tinted glass windows to soft golden. _All by myself,_ she reflects, looking at the row of large tables that can seat four. The ‘wings’ of the library all have pretty patterns of butterfly wings pasted over them. They pop amidst the swathes of cool blues and grays, as if the aisles really have come to life as a butterfly sanctuary.

Zephyr looks over her shoulder once before she picks up the book and holds the cover to the light. The sculpted, pretty pale face of a young woman stares back at her with a smile. Jane Eyre, a classic. _When did making friends become so hard?_ Zephyr wonders as she puts the book down and flips to the first page. She wishes the twins were here with her. They don't even have to speak; just quiet companionship would be lovely. At least with Iggy and Aquilo by her side, she wouldn't feel so alone -

“Hi! Hi! Can I have a moment?”

Zephyr finds herself accosted by a palm stuck out straight that almost hits her in the face. Shushes come her way and the limb lowers to reveal the face behind it that now has an expression of shame written all over. No matter, for she recovers quickly, a smile slapped back into place. She jerks her head forward just like in a cartoon, except some of her unruly, curly black strands of hair fall into her face. She pays them no mind, however, instead just saying, “Zephyr, we’ve met just now, right?”

“Uh… yes, we have,” Zephyr says while wondering if it’s polite to lean back and use Jane Eyre as a shield.

“Great!” The girl named Cherry whispers excitedly. “So, you know, this morning, I was talking to Qui- Aquilo. The blond one. You know him, right?”

“I do,” Zephyr replies, figuring if she plays along Cherry might leave her alone faster. “We’ve been friends for a while, just like you and them.”

“Fantastic!” Cherry shoves her face forward. Though her grin seems manic and stretched-out, Zephyr can’t help but notice the genuine way Cherry’s dark brown eyes sparkle. “Any friend of Iggy and Aquilo’s is a friend of mine!”

“I’m glad to hear that. It was nice meeting you as well, Cherry,” Zephyr says politely, giving her a courteous smile in return.

“Yup. Same here,” Cherry says as she beams at Zephyr. “But you know what that means!”

_No?_

Cherry skips straight to the point as if Zephyr isn’t giving her a confused look. “Yep! Anything on offer to them is on offer to you as well. So I was wondering… if you’d like to join my band? We’re going to be famous one day in the future, I just know it! And I’d like to have you along on the ride, Zephyr!”

Zephyr blinks, then in surprise, asks, “You have a band?”

“Yes! No! Well… I’m starting one.” Cherry sheepishly rubs the back of her head. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I hear you’re good with the piano?”

Zephyr’s eyelid twitches. “I am.”

“Right, so would you maybe consider -”

“I’m sorry but it’s rather inconvenient for me,” Zephyr interrupts. Her gaze drops down to where her book is still spread open on the table. Her fingers tap along the edge of the paperback’s spine haphazardly. 

For a moment, Cherry doesn’t speak, before she starts giggling. Zephyr looks up, rather concerned. “Man, Asian parents, huh?” Cherry asks with a wide grin on her face. “Don’t worry, I get it. Mine are super blargh as well,” she says as she sticks her tongue out and crosses her eyes comically, flipping one hand at Zephyr.

Despite herself, Zephyr huffs an amused, long-suffering sigh. _If only Cherry knew,_ Zephyr thinks sardonically, before she corrects herself with, _She might._ Zephyr has a hard time imagining anyone that happy-go-lucky with infamous tiger parents, though. 

Speaking of happy-go-lucky, Cherry waves at her until pale shapes blend together like a hummingbird’s wings in flight. “Alright, couldn’t have hurt to try. I’m hoping you’ll think about it, though. Pretty please? When I first saw you I thought you were perfect for the role! If you want in then come find me! I’m always recruiting!” With a wink and two hands pressed together with index fingers shooting at the ceiling, Cherry nods once and scampers off. Zephyr looks after her, amazed at the speed at which she’s running through someplace so quiet.

 _I didn’t see her at the track trials today,_ Zephyr muses. _I wonder what kind of club activity she wants to join._ Then she nearly lets the book fall shut when Cherry’s _I thought you were perfect_ finally registers in her brain. _Just… just what does she mean? What is she even planning to do?_ Zephyr thinks with her face lightly flushed.

One thing’s for sure: Iggy and Aquilo weren’t exaggerating when they had called Cherry a little strange at times, with her head in the clouds and apparent penchant for causing chaos wherever she goes.


	3. Recruiting Iggy: Rate Up!

Iggy wonders if pulling his hoodie down to hide his face is a suitable option. Anxiousness settles in the pit of his chest, but he doesn't want to come off as prickly. Today’s orientation had been bad. As always. Iggy never knows what to do with his oversized hands and limbs. So, he hunches his shoulders, leaning forward so strands of red hair fall down and obscure his face from view. 

_Where’s Quilly? I want to go home…_

Yes, that would be good right now. He wants to check on how his character is doing in Blade Online. It’s definitely been more than eight hours since he last played, which means his idle experience gain has been capped, and Iggy gets antsy when that happens. Best to hurry home and check.

Then Iggy squeaks as something big and heavy collides with the small of his back. He turns around to face the perpetrator, mouth open, and realises that it’s the familiar face of Cherry, except not, because she's bigger now and he's bigger now and here they are at Chalkhill. She smiles, one hand on her hips, and waves directly in his face.

“Ch-Cherry, please don't do that…”

“Oh!” Sheepish, Cherry places her hands behind her back. “Sorry for scaring you. I was just so happy to finally find you. I was starting to wonder if you’d gone home!”

“Y-yeah? You were looking for me?”

“You’d know if you checked your phone,” Cherry says, pushing her lips into a pout. She dangles her own phone by the monarch butterfly key charm attached to it, allowing Iggy to check with a twinge of guilt that yes, she’s been asking where he is for the past thirty minutes.

“Sorry. I was going to go home with Quilly, but if you want to talk I can listen. Is something wrong?” Iggy decides that his computer will just have to wait for now.

“Yep! Oh, let’s go to the corner over here real quick -” Cherry grabs his dark hand in hers with a wink. “This is for private eyes only!” With the strength only a gymnast trainee could possess, Cherry drags Iggy by the hand. Iggy finds himself lurching forward, almost tripping over slippery grass as Cherry veers left and right. She peers curiously at every nook and cranny of the school building. Just when Iggy is getting out of breath trying to keep up, Cherry spies the perfect place (supposedly) just around the back of the school.

“No one will ever come here!” Cherry announces self-importantly. Iggy chooses not to comment on the fact that he’s sure there are thousands of flies and cockroaches running around the trash dump just behind them.

“What did you want to talk about?” Iggy asks while holding his nose. “It must be important if you dragged me all the way here.”

“Yep! Smart!” Cherry leans forward and presses both hands to Iggy’s shoulders. This is rather awkward considering he’s holding one of his arms up, but Cherry takes no notice of the fact that Iggy’s trying and failing to back away.

“Hey, Iggy, remember when we were younger, and we’d always play pretend?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Well, how’d you like it to come true?”

Iggy frowns. “I don't think being a dragon slayer in real life would be very safe,” he says cautiously.

“No, no, those other ones, like, like…” Cherry sticks her arms out and waves them around excitedly. “You know, when we were standing on stage and singing and spinning around and everyone was watching us!” 

“W-watching us?”

“Yep! And it was fun and we’d pretend to see the world.” Cherry mimes looking out through a telescope. “And there’d be thousands of them, cheering and applauding, whether from China or Australia or Africa or who knows!”

“Uh, Cherry, I don't remember this part.” 

“Oh.” Cherry stops then, an inquisitive look crossing her face. “Oh. Guess it must have only been in my head, huh?” She shakes it off with a physical flick of her hair. “Yep, so anyway I’ve been thinking about it a while… and Iggy, how’d you like to be my guitarist?”

Iggy takes in the information, staring straight into Cherry’s dark brown eyes. For a moment, he doesn’t move a muscle. Dimly, he registers the fact that Cherry has leaned forward, taking his big dark hands in her small pale ones. She blinks questioningly back at him.

Then he backs away abruptly, stammering, “I’m… I-I’m sorry _what_?”

“I said: do you wanna be our band’s guitarist?” Cherry places a hand to her chin. “Come to think of it you really like instrumentals, don’t you? Wanna be my songwriter as well?”

“I - I - I,” Iggy splutters, feeling like he’s going to faint at any moment. His head reels and faintly he feels an oppressive presence pressing down on his back. It can’t be true, can it? No one’s watching him, right? _No, no, it’s not true!_ Iggy shakes his head frantically, spilling his red locks here and there in the sudden wind. “Ch-Cherry,” he says, struggling to put his tenseness into words. “You… you remember I’m not good with crowds, right?”

“But Iggy, you love music.” That said, Cherry’s eyes soften as she places a warm, comforting hand on his back. “If you don’t wanna, that’s okay, really. I just really wanted to reach out to you because you’re my friend, and I know how much you love playing the guitar. I… well.” Cherry fumbles at this point, her cheeks and lips and eyebrows moving animatedly as she tries to capture what she wants to say. “Y’know, like, this is a really good way of letting people know what you’re capable of, Iggy. I really like what you do, and I bet others would too.”

Iggy has to command himself to shut his mouth lest he look like an idiot. Iggy looks down at where his guitar would be if he were holding it in his hands right now. He can almost visualise it. _I do like creating stuff,_ Iggy thinks, a little wary, _but a crowd would show up to laugh at me._

Then Iggy looks back up into Cherry’s earnest eyes, almost glittering with anticipation. The words ‘no thanks’ fall to the floor. Instead, Iggy finds himself replacing it with, “I’ll think about it.”

“Yay! That’s all I can ask for,” Cherry says with a fist pump into the air. Iggy finds the air knocked out of his lungs as Cherry slaps his back, making him gag from the force of it as his entire being lurches forward. The sting refuses to fade even after a few seconds. Sheepish, Cherry rubs her fist against the sore spot, asking, “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah.” Iggy grimaces. _What did I just do? Get myself into trouble, that’s what._ His mind begins humming again, abuzz with the thoughts of a large crowd showing up: but in his mind, they aren’t cheering. Their dark shapes silhouetted against the sharp red lights of a concert, and him all alone on stage, with the spotlight on him. Iggy finds his fingers frozen to the strings, his guitar pick having been fumbled and dropped on the dark gray surface of the stage -

“I need to find Quilly,” Iggy interjects forcefully. “Otherwise he’ll be worried.” He sets off in a brisk walk in the direction of the school’s main gate.

“Worried?” Cherry asks in a teasing manner, skipping along next to him. Her dark, curly hair bounces with her every leap and bound. “Last I saw him he’d be mad at me for keeping him waiting!”

“He’s changed a lot since you last saw him,” Iggy informs Cherry with a fond smile on his face. “I think meeting Zephyr was good for him. She’s really calm and patient, so I think maybe he absorbed some of her personality?”

Cherry worries her lip between her teeth, but Iggy’s more concerned about the fact that she’s stopped bouncing around like a kangaroo. Instead, she’s tapping her fingers together in an almost sheepish fashion. “Um… about that, she didn’t seem to really like me…”

Iggy starts as if slapped. “What? Really? No way! She’s a really kind person. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything.”

“Okay, you’re right, considering that we’re… _well_ , pretty much just strangers!” Cherry laughs awkwardly and almost walks right into a rose bush. “Okay maybe I shouldn’t have… hmm, no, she did seem kinda okay at first, but then… maybe I said something bad?”

“What happened, Cherry?”

“Right when I asked her to join the band she interrupted me and seemed annoyed. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have sprung that on her so suddenly… you're right! We barely know each other!” Cherry groans as she slumps forward dramatically, letting her long hair cover her head until she’s walking like a ghost straight out of a Japanese horror film. Iggy chooses not to comment on the fact that he hasn't even said anything to be right about.

Instead, his mind turns to Cherry’s own pitch for her band idea to him. Okay, so, introduction by talking about their childhood. Zephyr wouldn’t be annoyed by that. In fact, she’d probably think it was a lovely anecdote. Then, Cherry had straightaway asked Iggy to join. No hesitation there, but Zephyr wouldn’t have been offended, would she? Cherry had also listed what instrument he played. Then Iggy realises it.

“Cherry, you wouldn’t happened to have asked her to be your pianist, would you?”

“Oh, actually I did,” Cherry announces without once looking up from her imitation of a shambling ghost walk.

“That’s it, Cherry.” Iggy drops his voice to a low whisper. “Zephyr doesn’t like being reminded of that. She _is_ good at the piano. I’ve heard her play. But she isn’t good by choice, since her parents forced her to learn it. She had to practice constantly! She’s just passed her final piano exam. I think she was looking forward to focusing on track now, but you reminded her of the piano again. No wonder she’s mad.”

Cherry keeps silent while listening to all of this. Then, she jerks back up as if she were a puppet tied to strings. While Iggy is avoiding freaking out, Cherry says apologetically, “Aw, just my luck. I push buttons I don’t even know are there.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll be okay,” Iggy says soothingly. They round the corner and now the main entrance is in sight. “Zephyr probably won’t be actually mad at you. She understands if it’s an honest mistake. She’s really nice, you’ll see.”

Iggy breaks off when he hears a familiar male voice call his nickname. “Iggy!” yells the blond now clad in a sports outfit. Aquilo runs over, seemingly takes notice of Cherry, and then taken aback, waves to her. Ignoring her excited jumping in place that threatens to trample all life around her, Aquilo turns to Iggy. “I was looking for you,” he says, brows furrowed. “Where were you?”

“He never checks his phone,” Cherry supplies helpfully mid-jump.

“Cherry was talking to me about something,” Iggy amends hastily while pulling at his hoodie. “I’m sorry I didn’t see your message.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Aquilo glances suspiciously at Cherry. “Do I even want to know?” he whispers to Iggy.

“Hey! Come to think of it,” Cherry says, apparently confirming Aquilo’s worst nightmare, “I actually haven’t told you yet! You ran off!”

Iggy takes one look at Aquilo’s look of utter desperation and hurriedly coughs to get Cherry’s attention. “Th-that’s fine, Cherry, I’ll tell him at home, I’m sure he’s tired, you know, from sports and all that,” Iggy says as he gives Cherry an unconvincing smile. 

“Oh, okay,” says Cherry easily. Iggy can scarcely believe it, and from the looks of it, Aquilo can’t ether. He’s peering down at her with a doubtful look on his face, just like old times. Only, this time, the only thing Aquilo does is heave a big sigh and then walk in the direction of the gate.

“Are you going to stay?” Iggy asks Cherry.

Cherry grins and flashes a thumbs-up in his direction. “Yep! Still have lots of things to explore! New schools are fun. See you, Iggy. Think about it, okay? I’d really appreciate it!” Cherry heads back in the direction of the lockers, waving back at Iggy as she walks.

Iggy waits until her head disappears into the building before he turns round. His brother is still ahead, looking back at him in concern. Hastily, he spins around and runs to catch up with Aquilo, his hands securing the straps of his backpack.


	4. Talk to Iggy

“So what did Cherry talk to you about?” Aquilo asks as he glances at his brother. He feels a little concerned: Iggy’s walking like he’s trailing about mindlessly, going forward but sometimes accidentally veering to the left or the right. Aquilo holds his arm out chest-level. Iggy walks right into it. He jerks back as if electrocuted.

“Can't have you getting run over by cars there,” Aquilo says, nodding in the direction of the numerous cars zipping to and fro on the busy street. “Mom will kill me.”

“Ah… thanks…” Iggy gives Aquilo a sheepish smile.

“No problem. I really want to know, though, what did she say to you?” It must have been pretty bad if Iggy can walk right into the jaws of busy traffic like that.

Iggy shifts his troubled gaze up to the sky, his left foot tapping agitatedly on the concrete. Then he grimaces as he realised he’s stepped on gum. As he tries to dislodge the sticky substance by grinding his foot into the pavement, Iggy says, “Cherry asked me to join a band.”

“A band?” Aquilo frowns, trying to remember snippets from his childhood. What’s she basing this latest scheme on? Cherry’s always been planning something or the other, and now she has this new idea she wants to try out… Aquilo doesn't trust her. Whatever kind of idea it is, trust Cherry to only come up with bad execution.

“Cherry told me she wants to make songs or dance or something,” Iggy says, his words trailing off. With a look of dismay from Iggy, the red man flashes orange before it flips to green. Iggy has no choice but to awkwardly walk with the balls of his left foot. Aquilo switches sides to support Iggy if he needs it, all the while perking his ears up to hear Iggy’s tale. “Cherry wanted me to join since I play guitar,” Iggy explains, “and because I like to… to compose melodies, sometimes.”

“That sounds like a great opportunity,” Aquilo says. Internally, he actually feels a prick of excitement. _Imagine Iggy, being able to share his beautiful compositions with the world,_ Aquilo thinks happily, before he realises why Iggy might be so conflicted by Cherry’s proposal. 

They’ve crossed the street now, which means that Iggy is once again free to squirm and wander about aimlessly. He inhales a deep, shuddering breath, before he confesses, “I don't know, Quilly… I’m scared. What if they don't like what I make?”

“Well… you can't please everyone,” Aquilo replies, carefully considering what to say. “It’s better to focus on what you want. To which I ask: is what you want to genuinely join Cherry’s band?”

Iggy shrinks down even further, if possible. “I… I don’t know,” Iggy admits. “I’ve always really liked it when you said you liked my music. Cherry too. But it’s just… I know I’m not a pro, and if I’m going to do this for real I know there’s going to be a lot of people out there who might see what I do.” Iggy shakes his head, looking back up at Aquilo with wide eyes. “W-what if they all post my music to a website and tons of people show up to laugh at it?”

“Well…”

“And that’s still on the internet, so it’s okay… maybe… I mean it’s not okay but at least I can sort of ignore them.” Iggy clicks his tongue and his brows arch downwards deeply such that wrinkles form on his forehead, just slightly obscured by his red bangs. “But you know, in real life, it’s a concert, a stage, and uh… what if they start laughing?” Iggy asks in a hushed whisper as they round the corner, children leaping past them.

Aquilo doesn’t know what to say, because he’s had this exact insecurity time and time again. Everytime he speaks, moves, or even breathes… today, he’s felt prickles shooting up his spine every time he so much as steps a little out of place. The football coach had been kind, but still… The only difference is that he’s never told anyone but his diary about how he feels. Outwardly, he must act as support for his brother, Aquilo tells himself. How could he not, when Iggy’s looking up at him like he’s his saviour? So, Aquilo lets out a hum of thought, tapping his fingers against the legs of his jeans.

“I don’t know, Iggy,” Aquilo admits, thereby proving himself a useless therapist. “I’d say to weigh the pros and cons of your decision, and decide whether or not the pros are worth the cons. My only advice is this: if you just act like you’re confident enough, I figure no one could pick up on the fact you feel badly about it, which will preemptively minimise any attempts to tease you... or so I hope,” he adds. “If you really don’t want to put yourself in the spotlight like that, it’s understandable. There’ll be other options for you. Maybe you can save your music in a private file online that no one can access.”

Iggy considers Aquilo’s words carefully, sending him a thoughtful nod after every bit of advice that Aquilo isn’t even sure is any good. _Surely Zephyr would be better than me for this,_ he frets. _She knows how to put it well._

“Are _you_ going to join Cherry’s band?” Iggy suddenly breaks into his thoughts like a hammer through glass.

“A-am _I_ going to join a… a b-band?” Stunned, the only thing Aquilo can think to do is shake his head vigorously. For some reason, his mind has completely skipped over the fact that Cherry has been trying to invite him as well. “That’s absolutely ridiculous! I can barely play a recognisable tune on the piano, let alone sing, dance or… do anything at all!”

“I… I don’t think we’ll need to dance?” Iggy thinks aloud nervously, tapping his hands together. “Oh no, what if we do? _What if we do?_ Oh no no no no… Quilly, I don’t think I can do it after all… I feel sick just thinking about it.”

“Honestly, I feel the same way,” Aquilo replies truthfully, hunching in on himself as he tries to pull his jacket closer to him. It’s not far from their home now, but it’s as if all the people in the streets have suddenly turned to glance at him and his brother with mocking jeers and sharp eyes framed by shadows. Aquilo shivers, unconsciously drawing closer to Iggy to seek out his familiar warmth. He swallows thickly, the lump in his throat gone with much difficulty. 

_No, no. Surely Cherry’s made a mistake. Surely she couldn’t want me? I have barely any musical talent to speak of. Or maybe she’s just desperate,_ Aquilo thinks with resigned amusement. _It’s not like Cherry has many options to speak of._

Whatever. He’ll just have to tell her he’s not interested. 

Aquilo’s blue eyes drift over to his brother, slouched over in a similar position, ugly wrinkles etched into his forehead and an expression of utter defeat on his face. Despite himself, Aquilo feels like… Iggy should try. 

If there’s one thing Aquilo has always regretted, it was not being there for his brother during their earliest years together. It’d taken them awhile, but they’d patched things up. Thankfully, the sweet and patient Iggy was quick to forgive. Forgiveness was different from trust, however, and nothing made Aquilo blanch from guilt more than a hurried squeak from Iggy and a mad dash to shut the lid of Zephyr’s piano whenever he entered. It’d taken Iggy a lot of time before Aquilo’s assurances that he’d never be such a spiteful bully ever again sunk in. Honestly, Aquilo can’t even blame him for this. It’s his fault, entirely his fault, and nothing he can do will turn back time.

It had all been worth it though, the day Iggy had hesitated, but continued playing the guitar with Aquilo’s encouraging nod. He’d kept as low to the ground as possible, as if unwilling to frighten off a delicate butterfly. Though he might be biased towards Iggy… well, talented would be the least Aquilo could lower his praise to. For so long he’d ridiculed such a seemingly boring looking instrument, but Iggy knew to look past its simple wooden exterior; gentle harmony fell with every pluck of its strings.

To think Iggy would never get recognised for something he really ought to fills Aquilo with regret of a different nature.

Perhaps it's out of this selfishness that Aquilo stops walking and grabs Iggy’s wrists in his hands. The redhead startles, blinking up at Aquilo with innocent amber eyes. 

“Why don’t you… ask Cherry what she wants? Maybe you _don’t_ need to be up on stage,” Aquilo offers, hope making his face light up. “I really think your music’s beautiful, Iggy, and I think others would love hearing it. You… really touched my heart, you know? Honestly, I don’t think Cherry could have asked someone better for the job.” And just because that might be a little too much for poor Iggy, Aquilo hastens to add, “but if you really don’t want to, we won’t force you, obviously.” Awkwardly, he fumbles with his grip on Iggy’s hands and drops them just as suddenly. 

Iggy stares up at him, unblinking, before his curiosity shifts to a more thoughtful expression with a sprinkling of fear. “I’ll… I’ll think about it,” Iggy says quietly. “I really hope I don’t need to dance.”

“Whatever it is, I know your decision will be the best one,” Aquilo says with a warm smile. “It’s great you’re considering it.”

“Yeah, but… Quilly, I’d really like it if you were to… to join us.” Hearing this, Aquilo steps back. Iggy seems embarrassed even making this request, as he . “Please? It’d be really nice having you beside me.”

“I…” Now that the tables have been turned, Aquilo finds himself scrambling for a response. Aquilo grounds himself to the dusty, well-worn pavement path to stop him from bolting away. “Well, you heard me, I haven’t the faintest idea how to work anything musical. I can barely sing on key.”

“But you could… you could learn, maybe?”

Aquilo tries to imagine what it’d be like to have him up on stage, singing and playing Iggy’s guitar. He instantly dismisses the thought. Like Iggy, he absolutely abhors being in the spotlight, and he can only imagine what kind of unwanted attention he’ll garner from this venture. Unlike Iggy, Aquilo has nothing to gain from it. _It’ll be fun,_ Cherry would say, but would it really? Aquilo knows what he’s good at, math and football and… writing bad fanfiction on the internet. Music isn't one of them, and thus Aquilo doesn't think he’ll get much enjoyment out of it at all.

“It'll be okay,” Aquilo tries to reassure Iggy. “I don't physically need to be in the band to support you. It’s just that I really don't think I’m cut out for it. It’s like… if Cherry had suggested we go do sports stuff I wouldn't think you’d agree. You understand where I’m coming from, right?” Aquilo asks with a pleading look. 

Iggy, lips pursed and eyebrows arched downwards, seems anything but convinced. Or perhaps that’s just his way of showing that though he doesn't like it, Aquilo makes sense. Music is much harder than sports anyway. At least Iggy could kick _sometimes_. Aquilo would just stand out in a crudely memorable fashion when he can't even tell which note he’s singing. So, Aquilo wills Iggy to understand.

“You mean… I’m going to be there by myself?”

“Not by yourself. You’ll have Cherry. And I’ll be behind you cheering. I’m sure Zephyr would be happy to come along as well,” Aquilo says while squeezing his brother’s shoulder. “Of course, you still don't need to do it if you don't want to. But I really, really do believe you can if you put your mind to it.”

Iggy stands speechless for a while, just staring back at Aquilo. Then, he ducks his head down and begins walking in the familiar direction of home. “I’ll… I’ll try,” Aquilo hears being muttered quietly, and this makes his heart speed up from excitement. Really, he couldn't ask for anything more.


	5. Objective Acquired

_He’s rooting for me,_ Iggy realises with a sinking heart. _And so is Cherry._

Both of them actually expect him to be able to do something!

 _That’s not true!_ Iggy protests silently, because if he were to voice the thought aloud Aquilo would surely suggest otherwise. Which isn't fair! There are so many others out there much more talented than he is. Iggy doesn't think he’s one of them at all. He still has so much to learn, and there are probably others out there who deserve this more than he does. Others out there who won’t freeze up at attempting to present a few slides to his entire class…

 _No! Stop!_ Iggy cringes as he replays that disastrous time in his mind. He’d barely begun till he started crying too! How embarrassing! Aquilo and Zephyr had comforted him, but even then he knows he had made a total fool out of himself. _What kind of weirdo does that?_ Iggy scolds himself. He feels himself trembling now, the sting at the corner of his eyes as tears gather. This just confirms what he already knew: _I’m stupid. I’m a coward. And I can't do this. There’s no way I can!_

But try as he might, Iggy simply can’t gather the courage to turn his head sideways and tell Aquilo what he’s thinking. That would involve actually letting Aquilo know, and Iggy’s just too afraid to let down Aquilo’s expectations of him. It’s not just Aquilo, either: this includes the rest of their friends. He can’t afford to let them down. Not when Zephyr’s been the first to tell him his piano playing was wonderful, not when Aquilo thinks his music is actually worth sharing with others, not when _Cherry has invited him to join her freaking band -_

The lift bell dings and snaps Iggy out of wild thoughts flooding his brain. He’s greeted by the familiar plants along the corridor, planted there by a neighbour Iggy’s never known. Somehow even this familiar sight doesn't calm Iggy down. His head is pounding, his hands are trembling and he feels sick. He wants to go home. _But we_ are _home,_ Iggy argues with his own raging emotions, _it’s just a little further down this way._

Said raging emotions tell him to piss off and run down the corridor like a spooked cat to escape.

Splashes of brown and white and glimpses of potted plants blur as the redhead sprints down the corridor. The thundering of his footsteps are matched only by the loud beats of his heart. Before long, he reaches their home and presses the doorbell the way one might attempt to squash an ant with their finger, before Iggy remembers no one’s home. He clumsily pulls the key out of his pocket, fiddles with the lock, and pulls himself into the safety of his home.

Iggy leaves behind the concerned calls of Aquilo as he dashes off in the direction of his room. He sprints so fast he’s out of breath by the time he accidentally jabs his hip against their dining room table. A loud ‘whack!’ sounds out. Iggy cries out and pauses, gasping for air as what feels like his actual bone itself throbs painfully.

“Iggy!” Aquilo yells, taking the time to lock their front door before coming to check on his brother. “What’s wrong?”

“No… nothing,” Iggy says, grimacing as he presses his hand against his hip, keeled over the table and breathing harshly. He feels like he’s just completed marathon, mentally and physically. Or dropped out of it midway. That works too.

“You can't just run all the way across here and slam the door and just expect me to believe you’re fine!” Tips of blond hair appear just at the edge of Iggy’s vision. Then he winces as Aquilo presses his fingers against his sore spot. “Looks fine. It should be over in a while,” Aquilo says, a little frown on his face. “Are you okay, Iggy?”

“You yourself just said so…”

“I mean emotionally.”

 _Okay, that should really have been obvious,_ Iggy thinks, dark face flushing hot with embarrassment. Seems he’s dislodged a few scattered neurons in his haste. Now that the adrenaline has washed off, Iggy feels nothing but shame at acting like such a child. Is there a bruise forming on his hip? Ouch. He’ll be feeling that one for days. Iggy pries his bag off his back and places it gently on the ground, as if to make up for the rough treatment his own hip has suffered. Iggy then looks up at his brother sheepishly, trudging off in the direction of their couch while gesturing for him to follow. 

Iggy takes a seat on the white couch, propping himself up with his gray cat cushion. Aquilo seizes the yellow and turquoise square cushion beside them. He brings his knees up and fixes the cushion in place in between his legs and chest.

“Did I say something wrong?” Aquilo worries, hunching down even further on his seat on the couch, brows angled downwards. “I’m sorry if that’s the case.”

While rubbing his sore spot, Iggy ponders what to say to him. Would Aquilo be hurt? Stressed out? Iggy doesn’t want to bother him. “No, I…” Iggy says while shaking his head. “Hey, Quilly, it’s okay now. I’m fine.” Maybe if he bluffs enough Aquilo will leave him alone. For now, all this interrogation is doing is making his skin crawl uncontrollably. It’s not even Aquilo’s fault at all, but Iggy can’t let him know!

 _The only one I can talk to is Zephyr,_ Iggy thinks to himself, the swirling emotions inside of him alleviated for just a moment as the bright spot of hope shines on his distant horizon of anxiety. _She always knows what to do._ Plus she’s the only one of Iggy’s friends that hasn’t yet given her opinion on him joining a band. A band, of all things! Who was Iggy kidding? He couldn’t do this!

“Iggy, if you really don’t want to say anything, it’s okay,” comes Aquilo’s slow, cautious words. “But you don’t need to lie to me that you’re fine when you’re obviously not. I know that, and you know that too.” Iggy jerks up in alarm at the flash of hurt that sweeps across Aquilo’s blue eyes. It’s gone in an instant when Aquilo swings his legs back over the couch and pushes the cushion back into place. 

Aquilo stops just before going. “I’m really sorry if what I said pressured you in any way,” he says as gently as possible. “That wasn’t really my intention at all. I just really admire what you do, Iggy.”

 _See, now that’s the thing that makes me feel like I need to live up to your expectations,_ Iggy comments in his own head. The instant he thinks it he feels guilt prick at his chest. It’s not Aquilo’s fault! He’s just trying to help is all! Iggy gulps, swallowing, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. 

“Thanks, Quilly,” he says though his throat feels like a parched desert. “I-it’s nothing really. No, it’s just… like… I started thinking of what everyone will think of me.” Iggy shakes his head vigorously, red hair flying this way and that. “Quilly, I can’t sing and I can’t play the guitar and I can’t dance! I can’t do anything!”

“You can play the guitar,” Aquilo says automatically, but his second of hesitation after this confirms Iggy’s worst fears. “You’re on pitch,” Aquilo says, unconvincingly to Iggy’s mind. “I think you have a good vocal range as well. You have a good sense of rhythm, I mean. And in any case you’re way better than me.” Aquilo glances away, pressing his fingers into the cushion in his iron grip.

 _“Ha! Check this out,_ Iggy _\- I found something even denser than your brain!”_

Iggy tries not to flinch as the voice of his brother, higher pitched and far more malicious, resurfaces in his mind. _He promised,_ Iggy reminds himself weakly. _He’s doing what he can. I trust him now._

Aquilo really has been trying his best to make amends in previous years since his realisation, but sometimes Iggy feels like his brother is almost _over_ eager in this endeavor. It’s at times like these that he can’t help but feel that what Aquilo leaves unsaid is even worse than what he does. _I’m not a kid, Quilly. I can handle it,_ Iggy doesn’t say… because he’s afraid of upsetting Aquilo, thereby proving his brother correct.

Iggy brushes this out of his mind. Instead, Iggy copies Aquilo’s movements and slips off the couch. “Thank you,” he says, a little stiffly. He picks his school bag off the floor and drags it across the floor along the way to their shared bedroom, bending over to do so. Aquilo trails after him, still looking a little concerned. To Iggy’s relief, Aquilo makes no further mention of his worries or Cherry’s band, and Iggy makes it to his bed without incident.

Iggy hears Aquilo flop down into bed the same moment he lays down on his side on orange and yellow stars that pop against white. He allows the soft fabric and familiar scent to soothe him somewhat, closing his eyes to let them wash over him. Then he flips over on his back, taking his phone from his bag. Holding it high over his head, Iggy starts texting his friend.

 **Iggy:** Zephyr  
**Iggy:** I hope im not bothering you  
**Iggy:** Cherry, you know her right? She told me she met you today  
**Iggy:** I just really wanted to talk about it if thats okay  
**Iggy:** like i mean she asked me to join her band since shes starting one  
**Iggy:** but im just scared  
**Iggy:** Cherry doesnt really know anyone else who can play guitar. Im the only one. I dont wanna do it you know how scary it is!!  
**Iggy:** But i feel like i have to do it or ill let them down  
**Iggy:** but i dont wanna do it!!!  
**Iggy:** its scary  
**Iggy:** and everyone will judge me

A little ashamed of himself for his small rant, Iggy momentarily debates deleting his embarrassing texts to Zephyr. Then Iggy swallows and decides to face whatever consequences may arise from this. _It’s Zephyr,_ he reminds himself to calm his breathing. _It’s okay, it’s okay. We’re friends. She’ll know what to do. She won’t judge._ Then, Iggy sighs and lets his phone drop onto the mattress, followed by him flinging his arm across his eyes, blotting out the afternoon light filtering in through the windows.


End file.
